A.I. Nasser's Blog: Voices in my Head

This is a short blog post, but I just wanted to reflect upon the idea that I have finally accepted that I can't read all the books I want to read before I die. I can try. Definitely try. But whether or not I'm successful depends on so many factors.

We just installed the library in my house, and my wife went through the whole "fill 'er up" stage of stacking it with the volumes of books we had lying around (some even turned into a coffee table at one point). And I sit here looking at, thinking, holy crap!

You see, of the hundreds of books we have, I've probably read only a fourth of them. When I had decided to spend money on books like a maniac, I will never know (and I'll never stop, either), but just thinking of trying to read all of them made me sweat.

But I can try.

I wonder if I can quite my day job and just read...

The first time I met Neil Gaiman, I was sixteen, pimple-faced, socially awkward, and had my nose buried in one book after the other. I had very few friends, although I was surrounded by acquaintances, and spent most of my time in the local library scanning the shelves for Stephen King, Michael Crichton and Dean Koontz. At that age, I had thought myself quite the scholar, a lover of the written word, and had written my first novella which, ultimately, had only been read by friends and family (and to this day, those same people are the only ones who have ever set eyes on that miserable piece of writing).

I didn’t know who Neil Gaiman was. As far as I was concerned, my head was filled with what I called ‘favorites’, and I had come to the unseemly conclusion that I didn’t need to broaden my horizons any further than that. I was set. I was good.

It was a friend of mine who first introduced me to The Books of Magic, raving on and on about graphic novels and how this one writer, Neil Gaiman, was the best there ever was. I didn’t believe him. I was young. I was stupid. And I was skeptical. Still, the graphic novel was forced into my hands, and my friend literally sat next to me while I read it, adamant to make sure that I at least gave The Books of Magic a shot.

And I devoured it.

Page after page, panel after panel, one magical moment after the other. I couldn’t put it down, and when I was done, I wanted more. Whatever I had believed about storytelling, had changed considerably, and in the span of three months, spending day and night reading Sandman, I realized that my idea of ‘favorites’ was quickly changing.

You see, the stories had spoken to me in a way very few stories had ever done. The fantastical, the absurdly strange, the worlds that existed just between your fingertips and were hidden somewhere in between the cracks of reality. It was almost as if you expected to turn to the left, just a little awkwardly, and find yourself smack in the middle of a completely different existence. For the first time in my life, I found myself lost in the stories of a man who I believed had found a way to reach into the darkest corners of my mind, pull up a chair, and say, “Hi, there, let’s talk.”

I’ve been a fan ever since.

I’m writing this because someone asked me, “Why Neil Gaiman?” And the problem is, you can’t really answer a question like that in one or two sentences. Especially when the question comes from someone who believes literature stopped before the 1900s, and the only books worth reading were those that involved characters that have gone through so much inner turmoil, they’d make Mother Theresa blush. People who look at me like I’m a madman because I teach Gaiman in my literature class, or because I think ‘October in the Chair’ and ‘A Calendar of Tales’ are two of the most incredible short stories I have ever read. People who don’t understand that stories are meant for the imagination, and to make you wonder and dream and forget and love and laugh and cry.

People who don’t understand that for some like myself, a story can save your life, and can be honest and truthful even if the truth is laced with magic.

So why Neil Gaiman?

Neil Gaiman for his love of the story, for his belief that words have power, for his insistence that libraries are the haven of the lost, for his respect for art and his admiration towards those who create it, for his sharing of what is true even if we find it hard to believe, for his humor and his sarcasm, for the simple fact that you never go into one of his stories and come out the same.
Because of Gaiman, I will always believe that Death is a sixteen year-old girl I’ve had a crush on forever. Because of Gaiman, I will always look at the written word as an art form that requires attention, deserves respect, and should be handled with care and a lavish amount of responsibility. Because of Gaiman, I have changed, and will never be the same again.

I have never met Neil Gaiman in person, but I have gotten to know him through his stories. And within each story, in the deepest corners of my mind where he has pulled up his seat, I’m left with a feeling that we’ve had a lengthy conversation like two friends who have been reunited after an incredible amount of time apart.

After all, ‘time is fluid here’. And stories last forever.

So, I spent a wonderful evening in the cinema, much needed after a week in bed with the flu. The wife decided that we watch 'The Greatest Showman', and being a Jackman fan (not fanatic, but fan), I couldn't say no.

And I was definitely entertained. SO much that I wanted to jump up and dance like a maniac in the middle of the theater, and probably get ridiculed by everyone there (which I hardly care about - as my wife says, I have no shame). All in all, I had a great time.

Until I read a few of the reviews. I wasn't exactly angry. I mean, everyone's entitled to their own opinion, but my God! Sure, there are the musical masterpieces (Les Miserables, anyone?) and there are the complete flops (can't think of any, I'm a sucker for musicals)...and then there's The Greatest Showman. A movie that is just entertaining, and for the simple reason of putting a smile on everyone's face.

And that's all the film really promised. It never promised to be a bioflick...all I expected was a lot of singing and dancing, and me sitting in my seat with a wide, stupid smile on my face.

So, despite the critics, thank you, Michael Gracey. You may not have directed an Oscar-winning movie, but you definitely gave me a night to remember :)

Cheers.

So, 2018 is here, and as always, I find myself listing out a bunch of resolutions I know I probably won't meet. It's always the same, every year, and I dread December 31st when I look back and realize that, of my list, I can probably just strike out three or four items.

And they're usually the small items, like finish a reading challenge, or try a new restaurant every month (something I only get done because of my wife). But the big stuff, like quitting smoking, going to the gym, maintaining my blog, and all that...well, you get the picture.

So no resolutions this year. Let's just keep it simple. And if I'm lucky, this year will be a roller coaster of a ride just like the last one.

Happy New Year everyone!

I'm a member in a couple of writer forums. Mainly ghostwriters, but there are a few who are there mainly to advertise their books or link us to articles on their blogs (not really annoying, but sometimes it becomes too much). One such writer started a thread about why trilogies should all be stand-alone books with a proper ending and definitely should not have a major cliffhanger that forces you to buy the next one.

As a writer who releases trilogies myself, I am usually in that dilemma, trying to figure out the best way to reach a balance between keeping a story going for three books while making sure each one is, in a way, its own story. However, I do find it quite difficult to swallow.

You see, I've always been raised with the notion that there was a significant difference between a trilogy and a series. When I was eight or nine, I read a lot of Hardy Boys and (I have to admit it) Nancy Drew books, and there was no part of me that went into those believing that the story would not end when I reached the last page. Why? Because it was a series. There were dozens of books out there, each its own adventure, each a standalone story with a happily-ever-after ending.

However, when it came to trilogies, I was never under the impression that I could read one of the books and not expect to go onto the next. That was the point of a trilogy. It was a great, vast story that couldn't be told in only one book, and there was something incredibly exciting about having to wait for the next book to be published, or making sure the person who borrowed Book 2 from the library would return it before you went absolutely crazy.

At the same time, I understand how the current market is feeding off the idea of dividing stories into three books just to make a bigger profit. Sure, there will always be those who abuse the system, but how bad is it, really?

When I look at some trilogies, where buying all three books would amount to something close to 7 or 8 USD, I don't think it's a 'trick' to make more profit. Basically, wouldn't one book of the same length usually be sold at the same price, approximately? Also, I like the idea of paying a small sum for Book 1, realizing whether or not I like the author, and then investing some more.

So, I think we should keep in mind the difference between the two. When Terry Brooks writes a trilogy, then that's exactly what it is, a story divided into three parts where I am expected to loyally tag along for the ride. When I want standalone books of the same character and his/her adventures, then hello Ian Fleming, Agatha Christie, James Patterson and Ron Ripley.

I was never really good at keeping a blog. I think it had a lot to do with the idea of being somewhat consistent. I'm terrible with deadlines (just ask my publisher LOL), and I sometimes forget that I have a blog that needs to be updated.

But here we are, and let's see how long we can keep this up. There's been a lot going on lately and I sometimes need the place to share and vent and bi..., ok, let's keep this PG-13 :)

Sooooo...this is just the first post, just to get my foot in the door, and let's see if I can swing it all the way open and take you for a walk.